When I first moved out to the farm my now husband was working drilling rigs. It was shift work with a week of 7am-3pm, a week of 3pm-11pm, a week of 11pm-7am and then a week off. Boy did I ever hate those all night shifts.
During one of these night shifts, I had been hearing some funny noises outside. It was dark and cold and scary to me being out here all alone. I didn’t know how to drive yet or where any of my neighbors were located.
I could hear the coyotes howling in the distance but wasn’t really sure what a coyote was even. I sat in this house terrified so naturally I locked both front doors and grabbed a big knife. I settled myself in bed with my trusty knife under my pillow and tried to sleep.
Next thing I know, I can hear this rustling and banging against the front door. I freaked out! Wouldn’t get outta bed and just laid in the dark with my knife hoping whatever was outside couldn’t get in the house. After awhile I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to Brad banging on the door for me to unlock it.
I went down and let him in and told him all about my terrifying night. Did he comfort me? Did he go outside to look for evidence of what happened during the night? No! He sat there and laughed and laughed. Needless to say, I was mad.
Eventually he did comfort me by telling me I was crazy and there was no way coyotes would come in the yard. I’ve had a few more scares over the years but I’ve never slept with a knife again.